The Necromancer and the Witch Hunter, a Dark Tale of TwiDash Love
by BemnalTheFallen
Summary: An AU where Twilight was banished from Canterlot for practicing Necromancy before her assignment to Ponyville. Without the Elements of Harmony, Discord and Nightmare Moon reign. You are Twilight Sparkle, living in the Everfree researching the metaphysical effects of Necromancy when you begin a relationship with Rainbow Dash. Problem? She's a Witch Hunter.
1. Necropolis ae Twilight

The Necromancer and the Witch Hunter, a Dark Tale of TwiDash Love

An AU where Twilight was banished from Canterlot for practicing Necromancy before her assignment to Ponyville. Without the Elements of Harmony, Discord and Nightmare Moon reign. You are Twilight Sparkle, living in the Everfree researching the metaphysical effects of Necromancy when you begin a relationship with Rainbow Dash. Problem? She's a Witch Hunter.

***DISCLAIMER***

I do not own My Little Pony Friendship is Magic nor do I have any aphiliations with it, its producers, or its benifactors. I do not make any money from this fanficiton. This is a fan made story created purely for entertainment purposes. Please support the official release.

***DISCLAIMER***

***********************WARNING*******************

Swearing.

Violence/Gore.

Clop.

Disturbing Imagry.

Black Magic.

***********************WARNING*********************

Chapter one, Necropolis ae Twilight

-_Necromancy, one of the most misunderstood and controverseal of magical practices. As loved as it is hated; to study death magic to aspire towards a single goal, master the forces of life and death. To command the corpses of all who have fallen, and grant eternal life to those who have not._- excerpt from _the Secret Book of Bemnal the Fallen_

You are huddled up inside your blankets upon a dark black bed, you have so much black these days... black clothing, black tools, black eye circles, black everything! Although it's not suprising, it IS the dark ages after all.

You remember how it all started oh so long ago... Celestia had cuaght you practicing Necromancy within the Convocation of Mages and boom, she kicked your rump right out the door... well, more like she sent guards to execute you and you fled for your life; buuut details, details...

It was around that time that all these Dark Ages stuff started, it began with Nightmare Moon's return, something that you had predicted for an existential time and when the event finally transpired you felt like screeming 'I told you so!' but you're more modest than that. Well it's not like anypony would have listened to your boasting anyway, they were too busy cowering like scattered ants screeming doomsday prophecies about the end of the world.

You slowly rouse from your sheets with an incredibly tired and aching body; oh how you hate your body sometimes, it's so bitchy 'I need sleep!' 'You're pushing me too hard!' 'If you don't eat I'll die!' nothing but whining left and right, sometimes you envy your undead servants, they never need to eat or sleep or go to the bathroom or any of those other annoying tasks; you've honestly given Vampirism some strong consideration but eventually decided against it on account of the need for blood; can you imagine how annoying it would be to have to hunt for prey on a regular basis? All the trouble you'd go through with killing the few Paladins, Clerics and Witch Hunters out there? ARGH!

Oh well... either way you've learned to (somewhat) deal with what you have. And right now what you have is a grumbling stomach. Stupid stomach... how are you supposed to satiate your body's need for sleep if you're hungry as well? You just can't win!

You roll your shoulder up only for it to spike with a sharp pain, oh great! Now you've got a sore muscle from sleeping on your shoulder wrong! Well, might as well chop that up with the rest of the bullshit you have to put up with on a consecutive basis.

Either way your stomach isn't going to pipe down anytime soon and thusly, you force your middle aged body out of bed; you're somewhere around 40 years old if your math is right. Getting up on two hooves, a practice that all ponies had become accostomed to so as to avoide the close proximity of their faces to the disease infested dirt, and make your way towards the kitchen nearly stark naked save for a pair of black panties. Clothes became another common practice for ponies as the regular temperature of the planet dive bombed into a near winter year round with the lack of snow but the omnipresent fridged cold.

You hardly notice the freezing air in you sleep muddled state, drowzilly slouching out of your bedroom within your little cave; a dwelling you've come to call the Necropolis ae Twilight. Your own little city of the dead. It's a cave within the Everfree that first leads to an ever confusing maze of twisting and winding hallways and rooms filled with deadly traps and undead monsters of your creation. The walls are all a black obsidian as well as the ceilings and floors; although you've used spike's large heavy body and dragon scales to smooth out the floors by having him waddle along the ground repeatedly. At the heart there's a staircase that leads down to a small apartment of sorts consists of a small hallway leading towards another perpindicular hallway creating a T shape, taking a right within this T shape leads towards a small intersection with a room to the left and a room to the right. In the right is a bathroom and to the left is a spare room filled with various junk and your various catalouged files and books.

If you were to take a left from the T shape you'd quickly come accross a room to your right which is where you've made your bedroom filled with a comfortable bed, an asortment of enchanted technology such as alarm clocks, sono crystals for playing music, a large Organ Piano for Spike to play when bored, and a dresser filled with rather similar clothing consisting of hardly any variety other than black jeans, black shirts, black zip up hoodies, and black ponchos for extra warmth. There's also a collectiong of black panties and socks for when you feel like letting out sexual frustration on yourself, just about the only indulgence you take in your body's natural needs.

To the left would be a small and simple kitchen with an enchanted ice box and refridgerator; further along within this kitchen is a dining area large enough for Spike to join. Continuing along the hallway leads to an open study area filled with all of your trinkets and jars and skulls on desks and alchemy stations and enchanting stations, the works.

Entering into the kitchen you gaze over at the silver sink and within it, your reflection; your mane is heavily disheveled as usual, your eyes of dark eerie circles around them from sleep depravation and your face seems more than a little bony from an unhealthy and irregular diet. You snort indignantly, you stopped caring about your appearance a long, long time ago. Down on your body you can see a plump stomach from all the sugary foods you consume to give you an energy boost for studying as well as your teats now with stiff nipples from the fridged air which you're beginning to take notice of. Ugh, stupid cold...

The extra pounds forming thicker than average thighs and a bit of a jiggly rump along with the bit of pudge in your tummy provide some much welcome insulation of heat so that's something at least. A small consolation prize that earns a laughing mock from your maw.

Ah well, why did you come in here again? Oh right, food... You open the Spriggon Wood cupboards and search for something to shove down your gullet while your horn lights up the pitch black area and unfortunately to find nothing that will satisfy for more than an hour or so; that is to say, you see ramen. Lots of ramen.

Closing the doors with slightly ascending agitation, you check a few other cupboards to find some tuna cans but you don't feel like going through all the trouble of mixing it with mayonase and what not. Checking the ice box you see a bag with stale long since expired buritos, a packaged TV dinner of a variety you've eaten so many times it makes you nausious and a hot pocket of all things, better save that for lunch, it's one of the few foods you enjoy aside from sugared meats. Oh yes, ponies were forced to become carnivorous once all the vegetation began to die out save for a few odd plants that grew only in moonlight but these were only edible to monstrous creatures of Nightmare Moon's creation... ironically said monstrous creatures are now hunted, farmed, and fed to the pony population. Sugar, chocolate, and other sweets are often added along with salt to the meats to improve taste but such a diet isn't exactly good for one's body. Better than nothing you suppose. At least one good thing came out of Discord's chaos, pony bodies can now digest the meat with no complications so at least there's that to be happy about.

Giving a mocking laugh, you close the Ice box and check the fridge. Some honey preserved deli slices of meat and prepackaged chese slices, the kind that looks and feels more like plastic rather than the genuine thing, and consider making a sandwich. But then why not just make the tuna? Ugh... you make your way over to another cupboard and spot some penaut butter, well... it's easier than building a traditional sandwich... you grab the jar and pull out some slices of bread, layering the slices with the cream you contemplate the recent events of history: Nightmare Moon returns, followed the year after by the return of Discord, now a days the two battle eachother fiercely for soverien rule over the world leading to a large spread of dark horrors and bizaar chaotic mockeries of physics throughout the land. Next came Chrysalis who married your brother -you nearly died laughing when you got the news- and joined the Lunar Republic legalizing citezen status for all Changelings. Poor saps, nopony has time for love anymoer, you have no inkling of how the Changelings still survive in these Dark Ages filled with depression and loathing.

You've now finished slathering penaut butter on a few slices of bread and folded them into halves before attaining a glass of milk.

The years that then followed were a dark and turbulant time. You were 18 when you first left Canterlot, you traveled for two years in which time Discord and Nightmare Moon began their still ongoing war with oneanother, leaving you at age 20. A year after that your brother got married and the Changelings came into society leaving you at age 21.

You settled outside of Trottingham for 9 years leaving you at 30 when you were discovered as a Necromancer and chased out of town by a few Paladins and Witch Hunters. Needing somewhere secluded, out of the way, and rarely thought about, you made your way to Ponyville.

That's when you settled here in the Everfree Forest. A place far away from civilization where nopony would try to hunt you down, a place deep in a heavily wild and enchanted part of the world filled with all the enchanting and alchemical materials you could ask for as well as a steady supply of fresh and long since dead corpses from foolish travelers who wandered into the wrong corner of the forest. Ten years later, here you are at age 40, a master of magic by anypony's account considering that you're powerful enough to cast the Wish Spell and Planes Walking Spell. Unfortunately Discord made it impossible to use those two spells but the fact still remains, you technically could cast them making you an Archmage in terms of skill and raw power; one with access to almost every spell in existence, along with a few custom spells of your own, infact one of your pet projects is to create an entire repitoire of new spells and even invent a new school of magic!

BLECH! Who in the hell made this penaut butter? It's revolting! Well so much for a nice breakfast, you make your way over to yet another cupboard and fish out a small bag of chips, hopefully their flavor will offset the disgusting expired penaut butter. Ugh, you'll have to make another trip into town today for more food if only to avoid starvation.

Dipping the folded bread into the glass of milk and taking a thoughtful bite while tossing a chip into your mouth, you contemplate the mysteries of magic as you know them.

There are nine schools of magic although the nineth could technically be classified as a sub-school leaving only eight total schools: Illusion, Enchantment/Charm, Conjuration/Summoning, Abjuration, Necromancy (your favorite), Invocation/Evocation, Alteration, and Greater Divination. Lesser Divination would constitute as the sub-school although there have been arguements as to weather or not it should have it's own school of thought or not.

You personally coudln't care less, oh well. Aside from magic, the one other thing you concern yourself with are Witch Hunters, annoying crusaders of Celestia who hunt down all evil creatures and dark magic users; that includes Necromancers such as yourself.

You have a rather large collection of grim trophies taken from the corpses of Witch Hunters who thought they'd try and kill you. Tch, idiots.

Either way one thing is for sure, this breakfast is disgusting. The only thing that could make it remotely bareable would be hard cider. Speaking of which, you head towards the fridge and pull out a bottle; popping the top with your magic, you guzzle down the bubbly liquid to help wash out the taste of bad penaut butter and milk; you soon begin chewing with a bored and tired expression, the food within your mouth is on the verge of simply falling out of your mouth. You manage to keep the excesses inside as you force the substance down your throat to quelle your angry tummy.

Throwing the garbage into the waste bin (enchanted with a nice little wormhole at the bottom) you make it back into your room with your hard cider before gradually downing it with regular sips. Placing the empty bottle on your bedisde nightstand, you clamber your whiny body back into bed.

Ahhh, comfy snugly warmth... at least when you satiate your body's desires it rewards you with happiness ableit only for so long.

You listen to the rhythmic rumbling of the room from Spikes big long breaths, his body curled up on a large hord of gold and silver surrounded by gems, evidently dragons use the silver and gold they collect as a sort of bed; their large bodies radiating high temperatures to mash the metal into a large comfy bed perfectly contoured to the dragon's body. Around the bed is a sea of gems collected in advance so that a dragon may avoid the need to hunt for more food. You personally have a Rock Farm just outside the cave where you cultivate Obsidio-Malachite, a type of 'living rock' that grows and buds much like a coral reef or a sea sponge.

When mined and cracked open, these rocks reveal gems, natural growing gems through cultivated Obsidio-Malachite. This would explain the large common appearance of gems throughout Equestria as well as why 'rock farms' even exist. Either way, you use the farm to keep Spike fed, that big loveable oaf.

Oh yes, Spike, he's grown quite big in recent years, to be expected you suppose, he's what... in his mid thirties now? Still a very young thing in the large scale of a Dragon's several thousand year lifespan. But still, Spike has grown quite a bit, he's now roughtly the size of a carriage with a brough wingspan measuring out to his full length. His snout, tail, and spikes have grown very shapely and sleek giving a much more 'anime dragon' look along with his wide golden fins at the side of his face; you still can't for the life of you discern the purspose of those things but you gave up trying to study dragons a long time ago there's just too much to catalogue and until you master Necromancy you only have so many years to live. That's another thing, you're not getting any younger... in a decade you'll be 50 and the average lifespan of mares has dropped to around 55 in recent decades due to the Dark Age. You've considered the Lich Spell but that's not really any better than a Vampire to be honest; you want genuine immortality. A goal you've been pursuing for years.

The initial idea is that magic tends to have a funny effect on corpses through Necromancy, you'd think it was something as simple as puppets on a string but no, Necromancy grants genuine life force to corpses! Even when a zombie loses its head it -contrary to many sci-fi stories- continues to animate its body; additionally, the zombies and skelatons you animate need no rest, food, or any source of incoming energy. With this in mind, one could theoretically prouduce a purified version of this to grant full on resurrection or even sustain one's lifeforce indefinitely!

Essentially you are endearing to create a sorcerer's stone, a faccite for immortality.

An hour or so passes with you laying in bed resting easy with your eyes closed, eventually you come to the conclusion that you need to get up and get those much needed supplies. Rousing yourself yet again with yet another spike of pain from your shoulder and neck muscles, you rise from your covers and don a few clothes.

You put on some black jeans over your legs -oh ya, with the inovation of bipedal movement, new words were invented for different parts of the body, hind legs became simply 'legs' hind hooves became known as 'feet hooves' and forelegs became 'arms' with forehooves becoming 'hand hooves'

Letting out a yawn, you finally secure the black jeans and slip on a soft black T shirt with the head hole hanging over one shoulder and securing a black zip up hoodie before doning a shoulder pack and filling it with a few possible essentials and a hsatilly scribbled list of needed supplies. Next, you secure a beld around your waist filled with material componants for your spells and at last throw on a thick black cloth poncho for extra warmth outside in the uninsulated cold.

Ah yes, the material componants of spells... Magic can be divided into two categories, Powers; and Spells.

Powers use a Unicorn's raw mana to produce supernatural effects by altering the physical plane with the Astral plane, this ability is many, many, many times more flexible than Spells as one could produce any effect they want on a whim, but it's extremely taxing on one's mana reserves.

Spells use only a tiny fraction of one's mana, just enough to draw ethereal runes on one's psyche as the Astral componant. A drawn rune creates a glyph on the Astral plane which can be used as a sort of 'flint and steel' to cause a supernatural spark which will ignite the astral changes upon the physical plane. But in order for the change to have direction without the use of large amounts of mana, one must supliment the spell with a material componant to act as a sort of 'lightning rod' for the spark; the material componant must have physical properties which would match the desired effect of the spell.

For example, a Slow Fall spell would likely use a feather as the material componant, then a catalyst is needed to ignite the two other componants together, this comes in the form of a verbal componant, speaking in the arcane language; it's not the words themselves so much as the pitch and resoloution of the words, the 'sound' created leaves ripples on the Aethereal plane which exists inbetween the Physical plane and the Astral plane as a sort of glue. Arcane language resonates within the Aether to overflow into both the material plane and the Astral plane allowing for the rune's spark to match the material componant's lightning rod causing a reaction leading to the desired effect of a spell. The shape of the rune will determine the desired effect.

So in a sense, spell books contain a recipee of the material componant, shape of the rune, and the Arcane Words with the correct pitch and resonation for activating a spell. A Wizard usually must study the spells each morning to inscribe the rune upon their psyche and memorize what material componant and Arcane Words must be spoken. Ofcourse, the Wizard can study a new spell later in the day if the need for said spell arises but it takes time to prepare it and thusly most Wizards like to study all their spells at the start of the day.

Then there comes the number of spells a Wizard can use. Generally speaking, a beginner Wizard can only cast one spell a day before being exausted of mental fortitude, they can still use powers until they run out of mana however. Casting a spell leaves an 'injury' on a Wizard's mind which they can recover from with eight hours of rest. It's also impossible to cast the same spell twice as doubling the same rune on one's mind could result in magic backlash and severely damage a Wizard's mind, usually the effect is permanant. Then there are levels of spells to take into consideration, there are genrally nine levels of spells; spells within the nineth level being ones such as, Wish, Planes walking, Power word Kill, and other such forbidden spells of godlike power. You yourself are capable of casting: 5 first level, 5 second level, 5 third leve, 5 fourth level, 5 fifth level, 4 sixth level, 3 seventh level, 3 eigth level, and 2 nineth level spells in a single day.

But then... there are also Epic Spells... but that's a whole other can of worms and something you wouldn't even pretend to understand. Maybe in a few hundred years after perfecting immortality you could look into the forbidden arts of Epic Spells. Of course, the temptaiton to begin study on Epic Spells is nearly irresistable. After all, Epic Spells are the very same ones used by gods. Beings like Celestia, Nightmare Moon, and even Discord rely on Epic Spells to bend the whole of reality to their will.

The number of mortal ponies who'd achieved the casting of Epics Spells can be counted on a single hoof. Meaning only one: Starswirl, the only mortal ever to achieve such a godly feat. Of course, shortly after casting his first Epic Spell, he was executed by Celestia for arcane blasphemy. But then again, he was stupid enough to practice such forbidden arts while hanging around Catnerlot, where as you are hidden within the Everfree.

The difference between a Wizard and Mage is that Wizards have small amounts of mana and so rely on Spells more so than Powers. Mages on the other hoof have large amounts of mana and so rely on Powers more so than Spells. You yourself possess an ungodly amount of mana to an almost suspiciously unatural point. Quite obviously you became a Mage but you still highly apretiate the artistic construction and casting of spells.

Heading out twards the staircase leading up into the labyrinth above youe home, you grab your Staff of the Magi, your pride and joy. Only five of them exist throughout the entire planet (counting yours) It took quite an adventure to create, the wood carved from Sylven Wood taken from an Ent. The three claws upon the 'finger's of wood grasping the orb at the top plucked from a Manticore, and the six inch diameter blackish green orb at the top was collected from your most flawless Obsidio-Malachite (aub-sid-ee-oh-mahl-ah-s-eye-t) then you had Spike breath his magical flame upon it to earn it Mystic Status making it worthy of being enchanted and finally; you engrained a series of useful spells upon the staff; the staff carries 30 charges and without using any charges can cast: Detect Magic, Enlarge, Hold Portal, Light, Protection from good/evil.

With a single charge it can cast: Invisibility, Fireball, Knock, Lightning Bolt, Pyrotechnics, Ice Storm, Web, Wall of Fire, Dispel Magic, Passwal.

Finally, with two charges it can cast: Whirlwind, Conjure Elemental, Plane Travel, Grand Master Telekinesis.

And ofcourse, it has this nifty little magic absorbing ability that doubles as an easy recharge ability. But if it overcharges well... don't over charge it... really... don't... It also possesses a self destruct ability should you ever need it, simply smash the crystal upon the ground saying that you willingly break this staff it will unleash all of its magics at once in an apacalyptic explosion of epic preportions leveling everything within five square miles. During such explosion there's a 50% chance of you being transported to another plane... and a 50% chance of you being completely obliterated to the point that not even an Eldergod could resurrect you with an Unlimited Wish Spell.

The only staff that you can think of with more power than the Staff of the Magi would be the Staff of Wishing created by Discord himself; a truly dangerous tool to let loose into the mortal world, it carries all of Discord's Chaos Magic allowing it to completely change the fabric of reality with an unlimited number of Unlimited Wish Spells. Although no credible records document its existence as anything more than a myth.

Shaking your head free of distracting thoughts, you make your way up into the labyrinth of zombies, skelatons, undead constructs, and summon monsters of your creation, all guarding your little gothic haven allowing you to conduct your research in peace. Now that your outside of the anti teleportation zone, you blink yourself just outside of the cave and make your way towards town.

Finding yourself drowzilly walking through the FUHREEZING forest, your hooves crunch upon frozen leaves and what youthink is frost although with how little percipitation there is this time of year your sure its just your drowziness playing tricks on you; you move the front of your poncho aside and peer at your zip up sweater to see foot stains, blood stains, mucus from wiping your nose and gods know what else patching here and there; your positive the same filth is on your jeans, shirt, and even your poncho but... you're already outside and... you've already come this far... ya you've gone too far to turn back you lazy pony you.

Bringing the poncho up to your nose you smell the stench of 'you're not even sure what' and reel a tad bit, well you certainly aren't getting any awards for cleanliness today, oh well it's not like you're meeting anypony special; just a routine trip into town to gather some much needed supplies. You secretly hope Spike does't spaz out at your absence and burn half the forest down looking for you... that's NOT an exaderation...

Oh well, at long last you reach the forest's edge with no confrontation although the strong aura of unease that radiates from your body from so many dark experiments usually either scares away most critters or tricks most monsters into thinking you're one of them... then again it could just be your smell... maybe you should take a shower when you get back... followed by a nice long hot bath to relax, maybe that'll shut your whining body up for a few hours.

As you cross by the forest edge it occures to you that you mayhap should have stopped by Zecora's for some more tea and herbs... ah well, you can do that on your way back.

For now, it's time to leave the Necropolis ae Twilight behind and enter the depressing hellhole that is Ponyville.

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	2. A Chance Meeting

Chapter two, A Chance Meeting

-_chance or fate... chance or fate... I can never decide these days; the universe likes to throw so many odd opportunities our way at the most convenient as well as inconvenient times. One thing's for certain however, when a chance meeting presents itself, we should at the very least give it the time of day.- _excerpt from _the secret book of Bemnal the Fallen_

You galavant your way towards Ponyville daring to let a smile creep accross your face as the warmth of your hoodie and poncho offer comfort against the blistering cold winds of th outdoors; far above your head rests the moon, the one thing that Nightmare Moon refuses to surrender to Discord, it remains one of the only constants in this ever changing chaotic world of ours. The sky itself is ever shifting in its colors, shades, and tones flickering from one to the next and so on, never resting once upon a simple shoice and sticking with it. How sad, some of the colors are rather pretty.

So enraptured are you, that you lose track of time and no sooner do you close your eyes than you open them within Ponyville's streets, was the journey really that quick? Or maybe the rodes got shorter again... they do that thanks to Discord. Sometimes they're not even rodes, they're soap!

You rather laughed uncontrollably when the clouds became cotton candy and started raining chocolate milk; that was one of the best weeks ever, you've developed quite the sweet tooth over the years and whenever chocolate decides to rain from the sky you always make sure to collect a large amount. Ah sugar... sweet blessed sugar... the ultimate flavor of the universe, most wonderfully found in the form of CHOCOLATE! Candy and confectionary sweets are commonly used to offset the distasteful flavor of monster meat.

Sweet Meats is possibly your favorite place in the world, ohhhhhohohohoho, you simply MUST stop by there today to pick up some snacks alongside the usual foods and mushroom bread. Actually, why not stop there first?

Walking up to the gingerbread house, you passby many other ponies about there own business, each looking just as shitty as you, pale bony faces, dark circles around the eyes, disheveled and dirty manes and tails, smelly stained black clothing; it's a common sight these days, black clothing became very popular thanks to its ability to absorb light and with the light: heat.

There were a few more dead bodies in the streets since last time you'd come through town as well as a few more Coroners bringing wagons through the town yelling "bring out your dead!" while ringing a gong, powerful plagues and diseases sweapt through the land so dead bodies along the street was a fairly ordinary sight.

By your estimates you belive the entire town will die out within 4 years which means you'll need to soon find another place to collect supplies although most of your resources can be found in the Everfree, towns just do all of the hard wake of cultivating and mass producing which saves you a lot of trouble. That is ofcourse, unless they resign to become equinewolves or Vampires which is quite honestly becoming a fairly common practice among Equestrians; beats dying slowy in agonizing pain from the black plague, that thoguht gives you a bit of a laugh, gosh you've become an asshole, what happened to the bright and cheery student of Celestia? Oh ya, her teacher signed a warrant for her execution and the whole world went to hell, that's right, how could you forget...

Grunting your displeasure at long-since-dead events, you make your way into Sweet Meats. You heard that a long time ago this used to be known as Sugar Cube Corner but now it acts as a butcher shop. Walking up to the front counter, you gaze upon the plethora of confectionary meats; meanwhile Pinkie Pie hopped up to the registe, "hello!" she chirped, "can I get you something?"

You smile softly at the bubly mare. It was sort of reassuring to know that there were still idiodic fools like these who could muster up a positive attitude towards life; or what remained of it at any rate.

Regarldess of such tomfoolery; you came here to get some snacks and that you do. Picking out a few treats and forking over some ill-gotten coin that you looded off of dead adventurers in the forest who met an untimely end, you make your way out of the shop and continue your rounds.

The cold air nips at your skin but you barely register it, the warmth of your many layered attire provides welcome ignorance to the retched cold. Weren't Necromancers supposed to be immune to the cold?!

Well... at any rate, you've managed to amass all that you needed for the next few weeks at least. A nice little enchanted Bag of Holding allows you to carry massive ammounts of inventory without the need of immense strength or storage space. Remembering that nice cider you had this morning, you decide to get a drink. Why not? Not like getting piss ass drunk will make life any worse given the current state of things.

And this fact is excentuated further by the dozen or so corpses that you maneuver your way through upon the ground. More coronors pass by to collect the dead. You even managed to spot a vendor nearby wobbling a bit; his face splattered with the same mixture of dirt, feces, and gods know what else as everypony else; but upon closer inspection, you see stuffy eyes, blood trickling from his years and mouth...

He falls onto all fours; hand hooves stumbling to and fro. And finally, with a gurgle of agony, he falls to the ground leaking out a steady trail of vomit and blood from his mouth, eyes gone wide in panick; wishing... desperately for more life...

Ya... you'll take that drink now...

Other ponies in the streets give not the slightetest glance at the dying stallion, such a sight had become common decades ago. The plague claims many, and what it doesn't, any other plethora of diseases will. Or maybe you'll just be murdered and robbed by a cuthroat Rogue or perhaps mauled to death by an Equinwolf or Vampire too poor to afford flesh and blood from the butchers like Pinkie Pie.

Well, one way or another, you make your way into the Skulking Dragon for some much needed alchohol. Once inside you order a few shots of rum, the warm feeling it gives you makes you feel happy, and down first two, then four, then 10, by the 15th shot you're wondering how you're still sitting up straight but, well... you're a tough cookie.

Ugh, what is that annoying sound? Oh ya, there's somepony screaming in your ear; you turn with a highly agitated expression in the direction of the insessent yelling to see a cyan blue coated and... is that a rainbow mane? Who in the fuck has a rainbow mane?!

You sit staring at her ridiculous mane with a slackjawed expression of slight disbelief while she continues to rant about something you likely don't give a shit about.

After a few moments she furrows her brows at you and speaks, "uhh... were you even listening?"

You blink a few times and realize that no, you weren't.

You say that you were too distracted by her mane and she responds with bravado, "ya, I know right? Isn't it awesome?! Cause The Dash is too cool for just one color; so you know, I just happened to get them all." she says while contemplating her handhoof in an hardboiled manner.

You feel an eye twitch. You're not sure if it's from annoyance or an overwhelmance of ridiculousness. 'The Dash'? She has a title for herself? And just FYI 'The Dash' there are more then seven colors in existence smart one. Ugh... you need another drink. Downing your 16th, 17th, and 18th shot; you're now surpised you haven't suffered alchohol poisoning or at the very least, passed out.

"Woah! Damn girl, you know how to drink!"

Thanks, alchoholism induced from a shitty life will do you wonders...

"Whelp, the name's Rainbow Dash!" the way she emphasized her name made her sound like an announcer calling out a fighter into the cage for a competition.

For a moment, you pause and contemplate the prideful and high energy mare; you notice then that under her shock of technicolor mane, rests admitidely beautiful amythest eyes. Her body is surprisingly shapely; heavily toned with obvious muscle definition. Her teats were flat as a board and didn't come close to showing through her armor. From the composition of her hide and faded coat, and shine of her aura; you'd guess her age to be somewhere around her early 40s like yourself.

Speaking of which, she wore a full suite of high quality black cured leather armor outitted with all sorts of little pockets, blade sheathes, and pouches. All four of her hooves were covered with an enchanted hoof ring of some sort; her wings were covered with blade edge armor and on the side of her right hind leg rested a mean looking hand axe with a wicked white steel design, seraded edges, and viscious spikes out the back end. The axe also glowed with obvious enchantments.

Within the various knife sheathes sat throwing knives, daggers, dirks, bowie knives, hunting blades, ulaks, and even a few throwing needles.

Strapped along her torso with the string across her chest and the wood across her back was a powerful looking recurve composite longbow carved of Sylvanwood; Elven-craft by the look of it. Along the back of her waist above her tail was a large quiver filed with arrows that by the look of the purpilish green stains upon the bottom, you believed were poison arrow tips.

OK, so this wasn't some randome drunk bitch after all... either she was one hell of a cautious Thief, or she was a Barbarian of some sort. You'd figure most likely a Planes Barbarian like the Buffalo if you had to guess...

Either way, she looked strong, quick, healthy, and most shocking of all, clean. Her face was held dried sweat and natural oil but was void of dirt and grime. Her armor looked well tended to and aside from a few stubborn blood stains it looked mostly pristine.

OK... now you're not so sure she's a Barbarian... maybe a Bard? She's definitely got the Charisma and confidence for it... though she lacks a certain... grace...

Maybe a free bird Nobel Mare? Nah... too lay back and relaxed in posture... Ex military spec. opps? Would explain the stealth gear... hmm... Possibly. So many different professions...

Fighter, Barbarian, Paladin, Knight, Cavelier, Samurai, Kensei, Sohei, Shukenja, Cleric, Wizard, Mage(like yourself), Battlemage, Spellsword, War Wizard, Arcane Archer, Nightblade, Assassin, Agent, Thief, Bard, Witch Hunter, Monk, Ninja, Acrobat, Psion, Battlemind, Eldritch Weaver, Druid, Loremaster, Ranger, Blackguard, the list goes on and on...

She could be any number of those... or even a combination; it was rare to be Multiclassed but not unheard of. Oh well, it's not really any of your business.

"Helloooooo?! You're ignoring me again!"

Huh? Oh right! She's talking to you again. Well... she's going on about how awesome of a flier she is... and some stuff about how great of a fighter she is... and some other stuff... you're not paying much attention at this point due to alchohol consumtion catching up to you but you manage the decency to nod along to her words if only to give the illusion of comprehention. No need to be a dick to a random stranger who wants to talk to you. Hardly anypony aproaches you anymore these days...

Besides, she's pretty. It's rude to ignore a pretty mare.

And so, you put on the semblance of listening as she talks the night away. You do manage to actually catch a few things; she's staying in Ponyville as a vacation to whatever profession earns her keep, you didn't catch which profession, and she also finds you attractive; also-wait what?!

You sit there, blinking...

"Uh... hello? Did you hear me?"

Yes, yes you did... you're just sure if you heard correctly.

"Uh... Ok... well," she puts on an air of superiority, "I mean, I guess I could spare some of my time for a hot piece of ass like yourself." she says nonchalantly in that scratchy cracking voice of hers.

Hmm... well... not like you had anything else planned... And besides... she thinks you're a hot piece of ass; that tickles your ego.

So, one thing leads to another and soon you're in one of the Tavern's Inn rooms with a bottle of wine and a very tipsy Pegasus. With a flare of your magic, you light the hearth ablaze and strip your filthy poncho and stained clothes.

It's been too long since you've felt the soft warm flesh of another body pressed against your own...

You're both middle aged and experienced so neither of you wastes time on ceremony, you strip eachother's clothes/armor off and let your staff/weapons drop to the ground while trying to eat each other's faces.

Soon you both fall into the covers; the freezing unnatrual cold of the Dark Age bites at your skin but the warmth of the hearth and Rainbow Dash's body stave it off between the sheets. She smells like sweat B.O. accumulated over several days, you smell even worse with all your various food/blood/herbal stains from your experiments and you're positive the stench of death and rotting flesh has rubbed off on you.

Neither of you care.

In these days of dark and cold and death and plague; you learn to enjoy what little comforts are to be found.

The filth of one another's bodies grind together as your bodies snuggle and rub coat against coat. Your hooves find eachother's marehoods and massage the velvety folds. the keratin of your handhoof seeks the volcanic shelter of heat within Dash's vagina from the wintery wasteland of the room. And in turn, you shiver as an icey hoof prods your your own mound cuasing your lips to quiver around the intruder.

You're mouths are pressed against one another with your lips open, breathing retched breath into each other's unwashed mouths.

You teas each other into cumming before moving on to the next stage; the wine.

Rainbow Dash takes a big swig before brigning her mouth down to your honey pot and shooting the sweet alchohol into your cervex before fishing it back out with her tongue. The chilly liquid flowing inside you makes your entire body shiver with delight only to be caressed into an orgasmic bliss by Dash's tongue, the muscle working magics you didn't even knew existed inside your womb with expert skill; that pony certainly knows how to make a mare happy!

You're not sure how long it is before you cum... or how many times you came for that matter, but eventually you return the favor. You're tongue isn't quite as skilled or experienced as Rainbow's, but you do your best. The sweet and sour tang of the wine mixes with the Pegasus' natural spunky flavor and juices making for a spicy cocktail that makes your rump swish back and forth in the air.

Eventually, she cums, and boy does she spurt! You swallow the hot liquid hapilly and revel in th feeling of the warmth it spreads throughout your belly. But the show's not over yet, Dash flips you around into a somewhat awkward position before lining her marehood up with yours.

Looks like this is going to be a long night...

...

...

Mmmm... comfy warm darkness...

...

...

Meh... eh... arrgh!... GRRR! Stupid body!

Despite your best efforts to remain in your nirvana of slumber, your asinine body betrays you and awakens agains your will. Your eyes still remain shut in defiance but the fact remains that you're concious and aware. Maybe if you just lay there with your eyes closed you'll fall back asleep...

Argh... alas, your body refuses; and instead forces you awake with yet more biological needs... you reaaaaalllly need to take a shit.

With a grumble, you shift under the covers and slip over the warm body next to y-... wait... warm body...

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AAAAHHH! SOMEPONY'S IN YOUR BED! WHEN DA FAQ DID THAT HAPPEN?! Oh right... you had sex last night... really drunk sloppy sex... seaking of which, you've got one hell of a hangover... maybe 18 shots of rum followed by half a bottle of wine wasn't the best of decisions but too late now. You could probably use a spell to fix it but you can't remember which one and trying to think of it makes your head hurt more...

So, instead you slip out from under the covers like a serpeant and slither your way across the frost covered wood of the floor towards the chamber pot. After some maneuvering and more whining from your aching body; you manage to plop your plot over the pot and do your business.

With that complete, you look down at your fur to see all sorts of dried clumps and stains; wonderful... now aside from all the other cesspool mix of crap staining your body you can now add dried femjizz and wine to the mix...

Dear gods you need a bath...

Well, no use whining about it now. Speaking of whining, your stupid belly grumbles in agitated hunger. You just fed it yesterday! Ugh, pain in the ass... You often feel envious of Wraiths, Ghosts, and Spectres... no annoying bodies to hold them down...

Oh well, with a yawn you find your belongings and scrounge up some food from the various purchases you made. After a nice breakfast with the left over wine, you get dressed in your jeans, shirt, and hoodie.

At this point, Dash begins to stirr; rubbing a hoof back and forth on her eyes in a manner that you can't deny looks adorable. At last, her enchanting amythest eyes awaken and peer into your own violet orbs.

"Mornin' beautiful..." she drawls out in a lazy tone; d'aww, she's sweet.

Eventually, you both finish up your morning routines and saddle up for the day ahead (subjectively speaking that is, considering there's no sun anymore; you get really annoyed trying to keep track of time.)

So, the two of you walk throughout town; seeing the depressing sights of Ponyville. There's less dead bodies today so that's something... a few ponies empty out their chamber pots from their top floors out onto the street and the shit shovelers hoist it onto sheel carts before shipping them off to the gong pits.

You see a few rats skulking around the various graneries and look up at the falconier posts to see the birds ignoring their duty. Hmm... so the rats are so infested with disease that not even the falcons want to eat them...

Well, sucks for whoever eats from those graneries... oh wait a minute... ewwww, you ate some of that food for breakfast! Oh fuck it, who cares... you've been eating Ponyville slop for years and you're still kicking.

Well, despite the aches and pains of your muscles and the utterly disgusting state of your fur and clothing, you're... happy... walking around with this confident Pegasus radiating bravado and pride... it gives you a sense of nostalgia from the time before all... this...

It helps that's she's sexy as well... and those toned muscles feel amazing; especially her thighs in flanks... mmmm...

You're drooling...

Right, so, after regaining your composure, the two of you stop inside Sweet Meats for some lunch. Pinkie Pie greets you both and serves up some confectionary honey ham deli slices with chocolate and strawberry drizzle and a size of purple grapes, half of which are rotted. Best damn meal you've had in some time.

But, the hours wind on and you feel you should be getting back to your home.

As you set out towards the Everfree, Dash speaks up, "um... you know... if you wanna swing by town some time... I'll be staying at the Skulking Dragon for a month..."

You look back at her with a smile, you'd like that very much.

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...

Long, cold, trip back to the Everfree...

Well... when you get home you can take a nice long hot bath; maybe Spike ca-OH SHIT! SPIKE!

You freeze as your eyes go wide and your mouth drops open.

You left Spike alone! You didn't come home at all last night! He'll have been worried sick! Oh geeze, he probably burned half the forest down looking for you in a panic; gotta hurry.

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...

Yep... he burned down quite a sizable chunk of the forest... ugh... nice going Spike...

You look with a twitching eye of agitation at the desolation Spike left in his mighty wake; an entire achre of forest recuded to ash and cinders, lakes and rivers boiled to steam leaving dried miniature cnayons in their wake.

Fucking 'A Spike... he even killed the Hyrdra that you'd seen stalking the swamp; it's charred skelaton evidence of just how strong Spike's grown in the past few decades. Well, at least he didn't unleash his magic; then the entire forest would be missing...

Oh yes, many Dragons learnt the arts of magic as they grew older and Spike was no exception, on the contrary, he took to spells quite well. Although, you're maniacle glee at having a potential fellow magic user to socialize with might have had some bearing on that...

Ugh... well... better go fetch him...

If you'd have to guess, you'd wager that his stampeding caught the attention of various creatures of the forest which in turn got Fluttershy's attention (she'll probably bitch you out later for this) and through a domino effect, she'd get the only being she knew who could handle a rampaging Dragon searching for its mother; Croth.

Well then, time to go visit Croth the Seeker of Knowledge.

You teleport numerous times until you reach the base of a large volcano; one you know very well. Vulcan ae Croth nil Draehgo. Atop the colossal volcano rests an Archtree. One of the only remaining in the entire world.

The Archtrees are ancient massive trees that stretch up practically into space; their trunks have a radius that spands entire cities in length. Their wood is stronger than Ironbark and thier leaves are fireproof. Many mystical and unimaginably powerful mythic beasts make their home within the mighty Archtrees. And more than a few foolhearty adventurers seek out these Archtrees to test their metal against such legendary monsters.

But this particular Archtree belongs to one legendary being and one only, Croth the Seeker of Knowledge. An old friend of yours. Fluttershy introduced you to him. Croth is a Loremaster, a type of magic user who focuses on magics of the mind and illusionary simulacrum as well as powerful enchantments. But moreso, a Loremaster seeks to fill their heads with as muck knowledge as possible.

As the old saying goes, 'if a Loremaster doesn't know something, it probably isn't worth knowing.'

Loremasters stick to the old philosophy of 'knowledge is power' but they take this saying to the extreme. Often forsaking material wealth for unusual information or secrets. They see collection of physical objects, weapons, trinkets, social connections, and the like as a useless waste of time; after all, metal rusts, passion fades, relationships dwindle, bodies age and weaken; but the capacity for the mind to grow with intellect and wisdome with age is infinite.

As such, they often rely on spells for most challenges, mainly divination, illusions, geas, and other magics that tamper with the mind. Some rumors even state that Loremasters can actually invade the mind of another and read their thoughts.

Well, you begin your slow ascend up the volcano; as one would assume, Croth is an ungodly powerful magic user and as such has raised mighty shields over the Archtree which acts as his home. No teleportation or divine intervention will work in this place...

And so, you climb.

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...

An hour or two later, you finally make your way past the obsidian of the voclano and onto the bark of the Archtree, its roots falling down over the Volcao's surface and down into the soil of the Everfree.

You're not as young as you used to be and your arthritus screams at you as you continue to climb. You ignore it.

Ah, now that you've reached the actuall bark of the trunk, you find an outstretched ledge of wood carved into a platform that spirals up the trunk of the Archtree serving as an improv-stairwell. Great, just what you wanted to do today... walk your ass up a hundred mile tall tree...

Ugh... This is gonna take a while...

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...

A few hours and a meal of rations later...

You come accross the first of many barriers and security precautions guarding the entrance into the Archtree. The platform that you're walking on has extended to thirty feet wide from the trunk of the Archtree. As you arrive at the barrier, you see a Griffon Barbarian, a Diamond Dog Thief, and a Vampiric Unicorn Arcane Archer.

Sigh... more stupid adventurers seeking fortune on some gods forsaken quest...

The Vampire Arcane Archer spots you and knocks three arrows glowing with ancient runes before speaking, "who goes there?!"

You're mom.

"E-excuse me?!"

She heard you.

"..."

The Vampire launches the arrows at you, which you swat away with a Missile Deflection barrier; you're experience level is so far above hers that her arrows don't stand a chance against your shield, regardless of their enchantments.

With a bored wave of your Staff of the Magi, you telekinetically send the Vampire soaring through the air over the edge of the paltform. Have fun falling fifteen miles bitch!

The Griffon charges you with a battleax, "you bitch!"

A flick of your wrist, and the Griffon's feathers light up in a blaze of fire; he rolls around on the ground screaming in agony as the magical flames consume his flesh.

The Thief knocks and arrow and shoots you only for the arrow to bounce off your shield. You sense the Vampire charging up behind you with her super speed; only to stop dead in her tracks as you hold your hand out.

"Wh-what are you-ARGH!" she falls to her kneese.

Funny thing about Vampires... technically they're undead... and you're a Necromancer.

"AAAAIIIIIEEE!" The Vampire spasms and roils with frothing black blood at her mouth before stopping... and sitting...

"R-rose?" the Diamond Dog squeaks uncertainly. You pass him by and cross the barrier having already accessed it before.

The Vampire suddenly stands up and sprints up to the Diamong Dog before tackling him to the ground, "ROSE! WHAT ARE YOU DOI-EEGGGGKLGHGHGH"

A wicked smile stretches across your face at the sound of the Vampire tearing the Thief's throat out. Eventually you pass through several more barriers, doors, and guardians; each one you present with a password or some special trinket that allows you to continue your arduous journey.

Eventually you come up to the actual entrance of the Archtree and make your way inside. Once you clamber in; you are privy to the largest library in Equestria. The Archive of Croth. Bookshelves stretching miles into the sky and thousands of feet wide carrying thick tomes as tall as a pony is long.

Criss-crossing walkways and ramps litter the sky above you along with winding stairwells and huge ladder rungs. Books, books, and more books, and endless sea of literature.

You're in Paradise.

With the giggling glee of a little filly, you race down the wooden staircase and into the archives below. The smell of old pages and varnished wood fills your nose as your prance about the marble floors; hot and warm from the heat of the volcano underneath; laying down on the smooth stone is like resting in a luxury spa; the hot marble massaging your old aching muscles and soothing your arhtritus into a quelled silence.

Hmm... Spike can wait just a little while longer... you decide to curl up like a cat and nap on the warm floor.

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Mmmm... a low rumble stirs you from your sleep; you look up as the thick deep vibrations fill the floor at a synchronized pace; something's walking towards your location. Something big... huge... massive... titanous... a giant leviathin of mass shuffles its way around one of the book cases. The space between one shelf to another is enough to fit a hundred ponies in a straight line.

The creature's eye is to large to fit inbetween them.

Out the edge of the bookshelf you see the chocolate brown vertical pupil slit eyeball of your host. Croth the Seeker of Knowledge raises is planetary head into the air and you see the Epic Dragon in all his might.

Dragons could be classified into age and size groups:

Baby Dragon, much like when Spike was hatched.

Young, which was the age that Spike was at, around 30-50. About the size of a carriage or wagon.

Sub-adult, around 100 years old, most were the size of a house.

Young adult, around 250 years old, most were the size of a mansion.

Adult, around 300 years old, these were the Dragons spoken of in the tales of brave knights and stolen maidens; great quests for lost treasure and such; around the size of a small castle.

Old, 420 years or so, behemoths the size of Nightmare Moon's palace in Canterlot.

Ancient, 600 years old, the size of small city.

Elder, 1000 years old, the size of a metropolitan city.

Legendary, 1500 years old, these were terrifying demi-gods who struck fear into the hearts of gods and demons alike. Legendary Dragons were the size of a County and their fire breath could consume entire cities at once.

Epic, 3,000 years old, the highest calibur of Dragonkind, their sheer size drove most beings mad; they could hold cities in their claws like most foals could hold a toy in their hooof. There really wasn't anything to compare their size to; they were Titans pure and simple.

But even Epic Dragons did not cease aging; they would continue to grow larger and older until they were either killed, or they became a Lich Dragon. Oh, what a terrible fate for such a majestic beast... For as long as Dragons live, they are not immortal although they may seem that way to many other beings.

Thing is, nopony knows for how long a Dragon truly lives, it could be thousands of years or tens of thousands. No Dragon has ever died of old age; they usually get killed by some god they piss off or slain by an Epic Hero for some quest. After all, the more powerful you become, the more enemies you attract.

Some Epic Dragons merely transform into ponies (as Dragons are natural shapeshifters) and live out a simple life for the rest of their days; others grow bored of this world and fly off world beyond the atmosphere of the planet in search of new worlds to explore. With their complete mastery over the most ancient, forgotten, powerful, and forbidden of magics; interstellar space travel is a parlour trick for them.

Some even Planeswalk into another dimension or universe.

This is more out of simple necessity though; the large you get, the more you need to eat. And there's only so many gems to feed a Dragon larger than any city. Some Dragons who reach Adulthood even resort to eating mountains!

Croth himself has learned to 'feed off of knowledge' whatever that means. You don't know how, but Croth literally sustains himself on informaion allowing him to go indefinitely without food or water.

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...

That'd come in pretty fucking handy actually, any chance you can learn that ability? Croth laughed when you asked and merely said that your body would emplode if you attempted it.

Croth's massive red scales and golden spikes shone from the magical spheres of light floating around the Archtree's interior. His leathery wings extended out farther than you could see; "**HMMMM... GREEEETIIINGGSS LITTLE PONNNYYYY...**" his voice rumbles out in a deep beriton bass that shakes the very trunk of the Archtree; its volume enough to rupture most eardrumbs. And this is him being quiet.

You wave to him.

Something screems from behind you and you turn to see the Vampire from earlier, she's covered in scorchmarcs, sword wounds, her arm is missing and she looks to be affected by about 30 different curses and hexes...

Wow... did she try to force her way through all the barriers of this place? Idiot.

"YOU!" she shouts as she points a forehoof at you, seathing with anger as foam froths at her mouth.

She makes to charge at you but freezes in place... wait... you're not doing that...

You turn to see Croth extending one coloassal claw towards the Vampire who levitates into the air with her chest protruding and her forelegs splayed back; she cackles and spasms as blood sputters out of her mouth.

"**BEEEGOONNNEE WOOORRRMMM...**" Croth rumbles out.

The Vampire screems in agony as her skin is turned to black obsidian followed by bits of her stone flesh peeling away in tendrils of dust until her entire body crumbles apart into nothing.

... Holy shit...

...

Well, moving on!

You exchange pleasantries with Croth who leads you through the archives. On your way, you pass by a few other ponies here and there; other Epic Spellcasters like yourself sifting through the greatest treasure trove of knowledge in the land.

Particularly, you pass by Ivory and Grotimnos.

Ivory is a Mage-Pyromancer(focuses on offensive and destructive magics as well as spells that agument physical combat), white coat, long effeminite platinum mane and tail; curelean blue eyes and a mare-ish maw rather than the blocky jaw of most stallions. He wears a black cloth hooded trenchcoat with the hood hiding most of his features save for his horn poking out through a hole in the fabric. In one curled hoof rests a Staff of Power.

Next to him is another Unicorn, Grotimnos. A Wizard-Necromancer with a lava red coat, and crimson eyes with diamond shaped pupils, amber hair styled much like Rainbow Dash's and a flare of a golden tail. His body is covered in a white leopord skin robe with the hood down and on all four legs you see red home knitted socks the same color as his coat; you know as a close friend that those socks cover up the hole riddled legs and hooves of a Changelings. Grotimnos is a rare Half-Breed Changeling/Pony; for some reason he just couldn't get his stubborn legs to shift with the rest of his body when he changed. In his own hoof he wields a heavily enchanted War-Scythe

"Twilight!" Ivory calls out excitedly as he waves to you.

You wave back; and then to Grotimnos, the two head over and as a group you begin chatting about the ongoings of each other's lives.

Much the same as you, Grotimnos was studying the fine details of the magic laylines between life and death within Necromancy in an attempt to truly understand reanimation on a fundamental level. His undead Tartarus Hound, Gortume runs up to you and barks hapilly as it jumps up and licks your face with its rotted tongue. D'awww, he's so cute! Who's a good little abomination?

Ivory laughs, he himself has been researching magics linked to earth and water around the forest; for the earlier half of his life he'd researched fire and combat magic; but now he was looking to broaden his horizons with some study on healing spells through water, defensive abilities from stone magic, and perhaps even learn some illusionary spells from the Everfree's natural enchantments.

Eventually though, Croth leads you to a large shafte with a spiral stone walkway stretching down into a black abyss. You summon up an orb of light and descends for five minutes until coming upon Croth's old treasure horde, the gold and trinkets are covered with dust, cobwebs, and faded texture from centuries of neglect.

It was amazing to think a Dragon could one day just... stop being greedy... Croth had long since lost the obsession for shiny things, focussing his desires instead upon information, knowledge, and secrets.

And there, down on the edge of the gold pile next to a ring of gems circling the gold like the edges of a piecrust, lay Spike.

The young Dragon lay on his back with some drool seeping out the corner of his mouth and a claw scratching his stuffed belly.

Oh Spike, that adorable big oaf, what are you ever going to do with him?

Croth was much to large to so much as fit his hand inside the chasm so he instead spoke, "**FLUTTERSHY CAMEEEE CRYINNG TO MEEEE SEVENTEEEN HOURES AGOOO... SPEEAKING OF A RRRRAMPAGING BEASSSST DEEEESTROYIIINNNGG THE FORESSST... i FIGURREED IT HHHHAAADD TO BE HIIIIMMMM...**"

You laugh awkwardly while rubbing the back of your head.

Well, you thank him for stopping him from burning the entire Everfree down and looking after him. Ugh... Fluttershy is going to be soooooo pissed... well, you'll cross that bridge when you get to it.

For now; you say goodbye to Ivory, Grotimnos, and Croth before leaving with Spike to return to Necropolis ae Twilight. And you make sure to give Spike a good scolding when you get home.

Well; looks like you can finally get that bath you so desperately need. Then it'll be time to snuggle up in your comfy bed.

Still... what a chance meeting you had with that spunky Pegasus yesterday... to think, if you'd only headed back home instead of stopping at the Tavern for a drink, you'd never have met her... hmm...

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Life is funny sometimes.

Review if you liked!


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